All I could tell was that it had legs and was big and there was no way in hell that I was gonna try and get all murdery on something that was a mystery to me.

What if it had fangs? Or wings? Or laser beam eyes? WHAT IF IT HAD ALL THREE???

I have enough trouble getting murdery on spidery things that I CAN see. I spazz out and freak out and 9 times outta 10 it ends up getting away and then I have to sing a few verses of Motley Crue’s “Don’t Go Away Mad (Just Go Away)” in order to properly commemorate the moment that I totally effed up and let an angry spider loose in mi casa.

You might be wondering to yourself why I didn’t just turn on the light so I could get a better look, and if you ARE wondering that then I can totally tell you’re a newbie to the world of insectual intruders.

Even though I’m spazzy I have enough bug killing experience to know that turning on the light can make a bug run away and hide and meet up with all of the other gross and mysterious insecty things so they can gang up on you and stage some sort of coup d’etat, all while you are trying to live a normal life in a house where you know there is a mysterious thing that got away and is lurking somewhere waiting to lay some eggs in your b-hole.

No freakin’ thanks.

So I put a container over the gross thing and then weighted it down with a heavy candleholder and I figured I would tell The Hub to finish the job when he got home later.

The photo above depicts a daytime recreation of the occurrences of the night of May 22, 2014.

Well, even though I was freaked out, I totally forgot about it about 10 minutes later.

I scare easily, but I also forget easily. So it’s always a surprise which one is going to win out.

(I also surprise easily, so basically my life is just a non-stop clusterfuck of multiple emotions.)

So later that night I went back into my bedroom and paused and thought “Oh Yeah! There was a gross thing!” And I looked down on the floor and my homemade bug jail was gone, so I thought “Oh no! Where is the gross thing?” And I freaked out for a minute imagining a band of angry mystery bugs who, sensing that one of their own was in danger, totally banded together to get him out of trouble and performed some sort of eloquently executed jail break and then ran off to plan my demise. Then the thought crossed my mind that The Hub had happened upon my detainee and handled the situation. In my spider phobic mind, this seemed like the less likely of the two scenarios. But just in case, I went to ask him about it.

Here’s how that went down:

Me: So? Did you find my bug jail?

Him: Yes.

Me: Well, did you find the thing in it? Was the thing still in it? Tell me the thing was still in it!

Him: Yes.

Me: What was it?

Him: I don’t know.

Me: Ummm…WHAT?

Him: I. Don’t. Know.

Me: Okay…well…was it a creature or was it a ball of lint that just looked like a creature? Because that’s happened before.

Him: Creature.

Me: I KNEW IT! Okay. Was it more buggy or spidery?

Him: I don’t know. It was something.

Me: Was it some sort of a stink bug thing? I thought it looked kinda stink buggy but I don’t really know what stink bugs look like so maybe it didn’t. And it was dark. So I don’t know. But was it? WAS it a stink bug thing?

Him: (sighs) I don’t know.

Me: How could you not know? You picked it up!

Him: I saw all that crap piled up on the floor and figured you had a bug in there, so I just killed it.

Me: With your shoe or with a tissue?

Him: With a tissue.

Me: Did you wrap it in the tissue or did you wrap it in the tissue and then crush it? Wrap? Or wrap and crush?

Him: YES. I crushed it.

Me: Then did you open the tissue to look at it?

Him: No.

Me: WHAT? If you didn’t open the tissue and look at the body then how do you know it was dead?

Him: I SQUISHED IT.

Me: Did you feel it squish? Like, did it crush and make crunchy noises?

Him: I don’t know!

Me: Then it might not be dead?

Him: IT’S DEAD!

Me: Where did you put it?

Him: In the trashcan.

Me: You didn’t flush it?

Him: NO.

Me: Oh my GOD! Why would you not flush it?

Him: (sigh)

Me: Which trashcan?

Him: MINE.

Me: Holy hell! What if it wasn’t dead? We don’t even know what it was! How could you not even look and see what you were killing? HOW???

Him: Okay. I’m done talking about this.

Me: What?

Him: I’m not talking about this anymore.

Me: Excuse me?

Him: You heard me. Done.

Me: But don’t you love me?

Him: Yes.

Me: I love you and if there is something that you’re afraid of I will not poop all over it. Even if it’s dumb and I don’t get it I will be like “That’s so sucky for you” and try to help and stuff.

Your daytime recreation photo reminds me of a call I got when I was the head of our building and grounds committee at church. I got a phone call from a woman telling me she’d trapped a mouse in the kitchen under a box, with other boxes on top of it. She wanted me to come right over (I live 1/2 hour away) and hit the mouse on the head with a hammer. I don’t know if I should be honored or horrified that she thought I possessed that kind of skill.

I still don’t understand why he didn’t flush it. Flushing it is a natural, normal response. Trash can is an abnormal response that makes me think, despite the awesome your husband has to take initiative to handle it without you commanding him to do it step by step like I have to do with mine, despite all that, your husband might need therapy. I don’t know what the diagnosis is, but flushing is what you are supposed to do with tissues containing squished bugs and/or green snot. It’s almost like wiping your butt and throwing it away instead of flushing. Does he throw away dead pet fishes too? Because you are also supposed to flush those. Do they not offer some sort of Flushing Do’s and Don’t Etiquette Classes?

I would also flip a THOUSAND times over if my husband didn’t look. How can they not look? What if it was a dinosaur egg or something. Did he not watch Under the dome? The pink stars can be falling dude!

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